Salvation
by Penny-Chan
Summary: Danny is caught in the middle of a long standing war & now Amity Park is the war zone. Can he beat this new evil? Can he help them...like they hope he can?
1. Prologue

**A.N.: **Hello and welcome. This, my dear friends, is my first ever Danny Phantom fan fiction! Hooray!Please be open minded to this plot idea but don't be hesitant on giving me advice or concern on how I represent the characters or my word flow, etc.

Also...is there a D.P. beta out there who wouldn't mind being assigned to this story?

Oh right!

**DISCLAIMER:**I do not own any of Butch Hartman's creations. However, Diana, Fromagio, Henry and other character not introduced in the show is owned by ME! And no other. Please be courteous and _ask me_ before stealing. :ahem:

Thank you.

And enjoy!

**

* * *

**

**Salvation**

**Penny-Chan**

* * *

**_Prolouge_**

* * *

Green sparks lit the sky with firework displays. But this was no celebration. Forest animals ran about in frenzied confusion, hiked up into a panicky daze by the dashing lights up ahead. There was screaming and battle cries, alien zaps and sizzles of electric energy. A war.

There was a sudden explosion of white and something was falling, cutting the atmosphere, no longer screaming but causing an ear splitting whistle as the weight plummeted to the earth like a comet. It hit the ground and the animals hopped a foot high by the cataclysmic impact. Trees swayed and pinecones plopped to the pine needle floor.

All was silent.

Green streaks cut the blue pallet, hidden behind clouds, traveling at supersonic speed, a velocity unfathomable by any living creature.

The insanity brought on by alien terror dissipated and the animals, quivering, went off on their businesses or scurried back to their warm homes.

While others, a brave bunch of squirrels or curious deer, sniffed in caution, staring at a bizarre bleeding figure. The forest sensed something not of this earthly plane and knew not to get too close.

A buzz grew noticeable but it wasn't enough for the animals to flee. The sound soon grew in intensity and in one split instant the buzz snapped to a '_shaziiiiiiiing!' _and two white rings formed around the body, traveling in both directions across the length of the figure.

When the rings disappeared so did the sense of strangeness. The figure had changed. Black hair and a broken spirit, a being these animals had come across before. A young deer, courting around a youngster, stepped boldly into the clearing and closer to the boy. She sniffed, leaned down, and nipped at the white material slowly growing red. No movement, the human lay face down in the soft carpet of grass and dirt, hardly breathing.

When the others saw this, their courage heightened and several more deer, chipmunks, even a fox, stepped closer, making a curious ring around the child. Waiting and watching…bystanders at an accident… tilting their heads in a clinical manner, wondering if there was any more life in the blood that was spilling across the fallen leaves.

* * *

"Where is he?" Sam whispered, looking through a pair of binoculars and scanning over the horizon. It had been hours since that pack of ghosts had chased Danny off into the distance. 

It was such a weird occurrence to have so many ghosts in one sitting. They didn't seem the kind to join a group. And being not the ones Danny Phantom had fought before (not even Skulker or the Box Ghost had been around) it had been a difficult battle with surprising attacks. One shaped much like a half-scorpion, half-man, had been able to spit ectoplasmic poison from his mouth; a concoction they found was able to burn through ghost skin.

They hadn't acted like a gang. More like a small band army, working in guerrilla tactics.

Sam was worried. She couldn't prove it but she had the impression that they had trained just for this, joined forces just to destroy the Ghost Boy.

The question was…why? What had Danny done?

_Oh, where is he?_

Tucker yawned and checked his watch, his mouth opening in teenage horror. "It's midnight! I'm past curfew! Oh man, my parents are going to kill me." He covered his eyes and groaned.

Sam glared at the sulking boy. "Danny's missing, probably having his _butt_ kicked, and all you care about is your curfew?"

"Hey, come on Sam, I bet Danny's fine. It's not like he hasn't battled ghosts before." Tucker stood up and shut down his lap top, folding it under his arm. "We have a test in Lancer's class, remember? We can't stay out here waiting for him all night!"

Sam couldn't believe her ears. "Who cares about Lancer's class? Danny needs our help!"

"Uh hello? For one, I care because I'm failing. And two, we have no idea where he is!" Tucker waved his free arm in exasperation. "He can take care of himself."

Sam knew Tucker was worried but they were both too tired from the ghost battle that had lasted into long hours of the _night_!—to end the arguing.

They were still arguing when headlights pinpointed them. Car doors opened. "Sam? Tucker?"

That ended the argument. Sam gasped, "It's the Fentons!"

Tucker moaned when he saw the other two vehicles parking behind the GAV, "And our parents."

"Oh no, they joined forces to look for us!"

Tucker shut his eyes and grumbled, "Everybody seems to be doing that lately."

"What are we going to do?" Sam hissed, frantically trying to think up a story for Danny's disappearance.

The horde of parents swarmed in.

"Tucker Foley! I thought you understood last night that if we caught you after curfew again you'd be grounded for an eternity!" Mr. Foley grabbed his son by the ear, ignoring the boy's girlish cries of pain.

"Ow! Dad, but—OW! You don't--!"

Sam gulped, wondering what her punishment would be. Last time she had been forced to wear a flower print dress. Her mom and dad were conniving and creative. Her future looked bleak by the fire in their eyes. "Samantha, I cannot believe that you are disobeying our rules again!"

"Young lady, this will be the last time you see the light of day!"

"Uh, but Mom, Dad, I….uh, _we_ can explain…" They forcefully grabbed her arm, choosing to ignore her poor attempt at speaking, and dragged her towards their car, fingers piercing and strong like talons. There was no escape. Sam was at a loss. Should she rebel? What were they going to say when the Fentons asked—

"Where's Danny?" Mrs. Fenton pulled back her jump suit hood and worry started to fog in past the parental anger.

"Uh…" Sam and Tucker eloquently answered.

Jack Fenton swung on them, wagging an overlarge ghost gun. "He was with you. So tell us, where is my son _now_!" The teens flinched when he accidentally tripped a button and a hot blast of glowing goop bulleted out of his gun's gaping barrel.

Tucker started stuttering. Sam's mind was quickly formulating a story. It was a stretch but what else could she say? Who knew where or when Danny would fly back in?

If he would at all…

"Um…we didn't want to worry you!" She blurted. Things grew silent, waiting. Tucker stared at her in bewilderment. "Um, yeah…we…Tucker and I thought we could handle it…w-we…Danny got attacked!"

_Oh, smooth, Sam, really smooth._

The Fentons freaked. "What!"

"Yeah, by this pack of…" Was this a good idea? "Ghosts." She sighed out the word.

"Ghosts! My boy got attacked by ghosts?" Maddie pulled back her hood and whipped out her own ecto-gun, a little slimmer in size.

Jack grew furious. "When? When did those mangy ghosts attack him? Tell me!"

This time Sam was stuttering.

"A…"Tucker sighed, "A few hours ago. We lost him. We-we don't know where he is. They chased him that way." He pointed in the probable direction and prayed he was right.

"Come on, Maddie." Mr. Fenton growled and cocked his weapon. "We need to save our son."

Madeline followed her husband into the Fenton RV, saying, "But why would they attack Danny?"

"They must have known that to get to us," Jack pounded his chest, "the great Fenton ghost hunters!—they would first have to get to our boy. And they won't get away with that." With a harsh twist, he started the engine.

Mrs. Fenton nodded, her features set with determination and the need for vengeance. But as she slammed the door closed and buckled her seatbelt, her motherly heart swelled in fear.

Sam and Tucker watched them race off. They glanced at each other but their gazes were broken when their parents pushed them into the separate vehicles.

Mothers and fathers spoke of grounding while their children looked out the window and wondered if their friend would return alive.

* * *

He dreamed. 

He was but only particles, weightless and barely held together. One gust of wind and there was a terrifying threat of being blown apart and scattered across the world. But he felt no fear.

In a blissful wave of joy and lazy contentment, he spread out his arms and dipped his head back, doing a flip and then corkscrewing up another few altitudes. He then relaxed all the muscles in his body, if he had any, and allowed the weak hold of gravity to pull him down.

Falling, falling…he would stop the plummet soon and do another roll…maybe dive and graze his stomach along grass…

His eyes popped open in realization.

He sure wasn't particles anymore.

He held up a hand, could no longer see right through it, and his dream self knew this was terribly, terribly bad.

He screamed.

Gravity was stronger now, it wouldn't let go, it wouldn't slow down, and he was falling, falling, going faster and faster, to his death, to a bone-splattering hit on stone and concrete and …he….would…_DIE_!

He woke up.

And he _was_ dying.

The boy managed to moan and then could not make any more sound, hiccupping on air as cold fire filled his body and pulled apart his skin.

Choking on sobs, he dug his fingers into soft, forgiving grass and concentrated on the burning tears searing his cheeks, but not on the pain…oh, not on the pain…it would go away soon…it would…

It did. But it took a long, agonizing time.

He floated then, once again. He didn't slip back into dreams.

A sigh whispered past his dry and chapped lips. Not wanting to but having to, he opened his eyes. His head pounded and swum sickenly. Grass stalks and leaves and trees and...hooves…twisted and stretched and changed color before finally resettling back to reality.

It took a slow, miserly effort before he dazedly grasped that a deer was standing in front of him. There was a dull fascination within his tired heart and he relished in the musky, pine scent coming off of the beautiful creature. He cherished this rare moment, not daring to breathe.

Something on the other side of him (it felt like a paw of a puppy) placed weight on his back and he screamed in agony, arching.

On the edges of his torture filled brain, he heard the scuttle of nature reverting back into the shadows. The deer was gone when he managed to relax on his back and calm his shattered breathing. He was disappointed.

His tears slowly dried as he stared unseeing at the overhanging balcony of branches, slices of morning dawn creating pink and yellow patterns along the wildlife. In this peace, he grew antsy, knowing that by the thirst in his throat and the hunger in his belly, he would have to get up soon. That and his wounds desperately needed dressing.

His neck aching, he looked over his surroundings, fighting down panic when he had no clue where the heck he was. But that was okay, he had been in woods before…of course, his mom had had to rescue him later on…and she had done all the survival stuff afterwards…and he had been able to _walk_ then…

His mind was starting to dip into a doze and he shook himself awake. This was going to hurt, but he needed water first and foremost. How long had he been out here?

He took a deep breath, paused, let it out, took another one, and then finally pushed himself up into a sitting position. The explosion of pain and the stretching of sliced skin was torturous. He nearly fell back over but in determination, he swallowed back the anguish and got to his feet, wobbling, teetering, holding his side, waving an arm, finding a tree trunk, leaning against it, panting, sweating…bleeding.

But hey! He was up!

"Way to…go…" he smiled and let out a long exhale. Now for some walking.

Two steps. Okay.

One ste—nope—gravity won.

He fell. And boy! Did that hurt.

He fought against crying, feeling like a baby but pouting still on the fact that _he had to start all over!_

"Ah man, this s-sucks."

Okay…let's do it again.

This sure was fun.

* * *

He had fallen down too many times to count. His entire body was quaking and trembling and he was tired, he was thirsty, he wanted to sleep, he needed water… 

Keep walking, a couple more steps, get as far as you can go before you fall again, before gravity wins again, STUPID GRAVITY! Go, go, go, _no!_

_Bam. _

Face plant, tasting blood, tasting salt, can't see, so tired…get walking! Run, run a little faster, you can do it, go faster, hurry, you'll find a stream or something, there's gotta be, there's gotta be a river, there's gotta be someone in this stupid forest that had a pepsi or something…

"AGH!" Fell again. He couldn't do this anymore, not anymore, he was so tired, just a nap, a little nap, and then he would get going, he would try again, he would get water and then walk home, walk home to his nice warm bed, his parents will be mad, he had missed curfew, he was grounded he bet, Sam and Tucker, were they okay? Were they in trouble? He felt dizzy, really dizzy, and his stomach was rolling, his belly was cramping up, his throat was parched but not it was stinging and now he didn't feel so good…

He scrambled to his knees, held his abdomen, and threw up.

_You pushed yourself too hard, ya idiot. Pushed too hard…_

His head wearily was lifted up when a gun shot rumbled the skies. Leaves twitched, birds twittered, and the forest shook with fear. But he was overjoyed. Gun shots, hunter, it was a hunter, there was someone here, and they could help, they would have water, or a pepsi, that would be good too…

He didn't remember getting up. And he didn't remember wiping his mouth. He did remember the ongoing stampede of crumbling thoughts in his head, still going, not finding rest. He did remember feeling a distancing from the pain. _I'm going to pass out. Hurry, hurry. _But he didn't remember the decision to turn right or left or to go through that clump of trees or that bundle of bushes.

It was all instinct, and instinct rocked!

He stumbled into a clearing, there was a lawn chair, a forgotten novel lying spine up on the seat, and there was a little fire, dying, emitting a thin trickle of sweet-smelling smoke.

All he cared about was the cooler.

He did remember the tears as he walked, fell to his knees, and then crawled over to the red square with the white lid.

His fumbling nincompoop fingers; they couldn't get a grasp on the indented part of the lid where he could lift it, get to the water inside. "Please, please, please," he was subconsciously chanting. The soft skin of the pads of his hands was being reopened by the rough surface of the cooler's plastic and blood was spilling out over the sides.

He didn't care. OPEN!

He got it, he slipped, the lid bumped his hand and it hurt but he was inside! He pushed the lid back and stuck his hands into the melting ice. It stung, oh, how it stung. But it felt so good.

It was a big cooler so he was able to lower his head inside and dunk his face into the freezing ice water. The frigid beer bottles and soda cans was metallic and sharp against the balls of his cheeks. He sucked in the liquid. His throat throbbed. His body pulsed with that cold fire. Gasping and sobbing, he drank.

Someone yelled.

He flung up, adrenaline seized his heart, and the muscle skipped a beat.

He wearily realized that he had stolen. This wasn't _his_ cooler, _his_ ice water. No, he was in big trouble.

Dread plummeted in his cramping belly, a feeling well known to children around the world. The boy held up his hands, ready to plead, beg for forgiveness.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He couldn't think of anything else to say.

The hunter in plaid, a five o'clock shadow covering his rough, tanned skin (why shave in the woods?), lowered his rifle and blinked owlishly at the teenage boy huddling back against a tree.

His anger cooled by the sight of the broken child. "Hey, kid, it's okay. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you."

The boy swallowed and lowered his hands, too tired to keep them up. "I-I'm sorry…I was thirsty…I didn't think…"

"No, no!" The hunter in plaid cooed. He slowly dropped his gun and knelt down on one knee. "It's okay, really. I thought you were a bear or something, you know? Can't be too careful." He chuckled, just trying to console the fear in the kid's eyes. It worked. The boy relaxed by his Santa Claus laugh.

Feeling like he was trying to coax a scared pup, the hunter in plaid kept his voice low and steady, "Now, hey…what's your name? What...what happened to you?"

The boy's eyelids had fallen half mast and he didn't seem to understand. Slowly, the child looked down at himself as if seeing his body's condition for the first time. "I…was fighting…" he slurred, sounding a little awed.

"Who were you fighting? Local punks?" The hunter in plaid playfully punched the air.

A corner of his lip twitched."Y-yeah…wait, no…no…new ones…I'd never seen them before." The teen leaned his head back against the tree. He chuckled, weak and soft. "I think I lost."

The hunter in plaid smiled. "Yeah, think you lost Round One bucko. But let's hope you don't have to do Round Two." His smile broadened and he held out a hand, "The name's Henry. Henry Stiles."

Out of propriety, the boy did the same and Henry gently shook the trembling palm. "M-my name's…Danny." Danny grinned, like it was a personal achievement that he had remembered.

Henry stood up and walked over to him, whistling by the sight of his wounds. "Who Nelly, those jerks sure did a number on you. Why don't I fix ya up? Then you'll be all cleaned up and nice when we find your parents. Do you live around here?"

Danny scrunched up his brows, "That depends…where is here?"

Henry clicked his tongue, "Hmm, you're in Payette kiddo, Payette national forest." By Danny's expression, he added, "You're in Idaho."

That got him thinking. Rather comically, his eyes bugged out and Danny coughed on air. "I-Idaho?"

"Yeah." This wasn't good. "Where do ya live Danny?"

"I-I live in Amity Park…i-in Oregon."

"Well, shoot, you're pretty far from home but at least you're not in Canada or anything. Right?"

Danny dumbly nodded. "I guess." He groaned, "Ah man, they chased me farther than I thought. My parents are going to have a cow."

Henry shook his head, "I'm a father too kid, grandfather also. I think they're more worried sick than angry. They sure will have a cow when they get a look at you though…but in a good way" He assured. Danny didn't look convinced. "Well, anyways, we'll figure out how to get you home. There's a cute town not far from here, they should have phone service. Sorry, to say, my cabin doesn't. I'm roughin' it, you know?" Henry sniffed and clenched his muscles. "Being manly."

Danny laughed, wincing at the effort.

Henry scolded himself and whispered,"Now why don't I take you over there and get you some hot chocolate? Seems like you need it."

Danny's eyes lids drooped a little more, "Yeah…th-thank you." His shoulders sagged and he slid sideways. Henry Stiles caught him before he fell to the ground. The kid was unconscious, white as a sheet.

"Ah, you poor thing." The hunter in plaid sighed and picked up Danny bridal style, conscientious of his injuries. "Who could do such a thing?"

He started walking, thinking that he would get his stuff later. His cabin, a life long dream finally achieved, was just over the hill. He mumbled, shaking his head, "This wasn't quite what I had in mind when I wanted an adventure."

He grinned, "My wife is going to have a cow."

* * *

The shadows were alive and moving. It breathed and shifted with sighs. 

"Did you poison him?" A deep, evil voice rumbled.

A grotesque man stepped out from the dark, a long scorpion tail twitching above his ear. His outline was glowing green. He knelt down to one knee. "Yes, sire. It should have already taken affect."

"For your sake, it had better."

The scorpion man stifled his shudder, nodded, and slid back into the shadows.

There was a terrifying lull before the voice spoke again. "Diana, my sweet, please come here."

By the command, in the same place the scorpion man had stood before, materialized a small girl. She wore a pretty red floral dress and was carrying a teddy bear. Her eyes were downcast and unseen by her brunette bangs. "Yes, sire, what is your wish?"

"Do not disguise yourself here. You are among comrades."

No one could see her grimace. Diana obeyed and her shoulders trembled, her entire body started to glow a brilliant white sheen. In the girl's place was a full grown woman, stunningly long brown locks and hazel eyes. She was now wearing a red robe, her hood pulled back. The bear was gone. Her face was devoid of all emotion. "What is your wish?" She repeated.

"Ah, there's my little spy. And how is the enemy?"

"They know of what you've done. The Ghost Child's parents are out to look for him and they will send recruits to protect them on their search."

Diana knew the master was smiling by the increased sense of evil in the dark. "Well, we shall have to stop by and say hello. And what of the boy?"

"He is no longer a threat to us, do you not agree? The poison will run its course."

The shadows squirmed by her tone and choice of words. The master only laughed. Diana managed not to flinch. "I do love your fire, my sweet. Now go. And tell me any news."

"Yes…sire."

She disappeared in a glow of white light, pure and clean.

"Fromagio." The darkness quivered. A man took Diana's place, his face covered by a mask in the shape of a fox; he was holding a bow, an arrow already cocked in the string. He did not bend down or even tip his head like the ones before.

"Yes?"

"You shall follow her. Be sure that she doesn't get into any…trouble."

The man saluted in a mocking manner. "As you wish."

Fromagio began to melt and from the gelatinous goop, stepped out a sleek red fox. His long bushy tail flitted around like fire. He walked serenely away, being devoured by the dark.

The shadows moaned.

* * *

**A.N.: **Betas? Is there a beta in the house who loves Danny Phantom? Please let me know! Oh, and I hope you all loved the prolouge. See you soon! 


	2. Nightmarish Protectors

**A.N.: **A change has been made. In the prologue, Danny and CO. had been said to be fighting ghosts for all hours all weekend. My muse has spoken and I have made it for all hours of all night. This is to coincide with what's been said in this chapter.

Kapeesh?

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

**DISCLAIMER: **Danny Phantom and all such characters of the Nickelodeon show are properties of Butch Hartman and Nick Studios. However, Diana, Fromagio, Henry, Charles, Ian, Jason, and Hawkins are my own creation. DO NOT CONVERSE OR EVEN THINK ABOUT THEM WITHOUT MY SAY:::laughs: Also, this story plot and horribly out of character Hartman Characters are my doing. Thank you and give it up lawyers, you have no idea where I am! BWAHAHA! 

**

* * *

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**Salvation **

**Chapter One**

* * *

The little fawn yawned, snuggling closer to her mother. She curled up in contentment as her mother bathed her. She then shivered, but not because of the tongue gliding over her nose. Her mother froze and looked to the sky. It was that sense of strangeness again.

The mother deer stood up and nudged her baby, pushing her to her wobbly feet. They pranced off right as a woman in a red robe floated over the trees.

Diana touched ground and her robe began to sizzle and change. She was now wearing a white gown, with long flowing sleeves. The fabric swayed as if entwined with the winds themselves. She was free now from the shadows so she looked around her with blatant concern.

"Where is that boy?" She hovered, contemplating which direction and then flew up, phasing through the branches.

She saw smoke in the distance and headed that way, coming across a cute little cabin. Diana smiled in relief. There was the Ghost Child being carried by some man. He came to the door and paused, at a lost on how he should open it and get inside. Diana turned invisible and right as he looked to his right, thinking on lying Danny down; she softly unlocked the door and pushed it open.

He jumped and warily lifted a brow. His expression soon cleared and he rolled his eyes, "Idiot. I must have not closed it all the way again." He shrugged and shifted through the entrance.

Diana floated above him and watched as he laid Danny on a leather futon in the living room. This was some nice place. _He must_ _have a really good job. _There was carpeting, air conditioning, and even a big screen T.V. She didn't think this was the idea of "roughing it" as she so often overheard.

The man dusted off his hands and placed them on his waist, clicking his tongue. "Boy." He shook his head sadly as Danny wheezed. "Now where did I put that first aid kit?"

Diana knew she would have to leave soon. She needed to get back, do her job, and not get caught. Sighing, she sat next to Danny when the man had left for his search. _They sure did a number on him. Did they have to hurt him so badly? _She caressed his cheek and he shivered, breathing out a visible wisp of air. She took back her hand and grabbed a blanket hanging over the side of the couch, pulling it over him and tucking the sides.

"There, there. You'll be alright." Of course, those goons did such a number on him. They loved it. Diana closed her eyes. "I'm sorry."

Danny shifted and moaned. His eyes opened, rolling around a bit in his sockets. His hands groped needlessly. "Leave…me alone…" He relaxed, losing consciousness. "I don't have…my thermos…"

Diana chuckled. She couldn't help herself and ran her fingers through his bangs. She had been too late in having children…that is…from what she remembered…

Shaking herself from such melancholy thoughts, she flew out of the house, right as the man returned, kit in hand.

"You better take good care of him," She mumbled, waving to the protectors.

Increasing her speed, Diana reverted back to her red robe. "Now where are his parents?"

_I'll bring them to you, child. They'll find you. _

_Just hang on. _

Fromagio, sitting atop a branch, tapped his chin in thought. He watched her fly by and he gave a half smile. "Ah, so she has a liking for the boy. That won't due."

He got up, turned invisible, and jumped from treetop to treetop. He stayed close behind so she wouldn't notice him following her.

* * *

Danny was brought back to the conscious plane by a sudden wave of dizziness. Gravity was leaving him again. "D-did I go ghost?" He mumbled incoherently.

There was a deep, rumbling laugh off in the distance. When his lightheadedness passed, he felt footsteps, and the voice was clear, "Nah kid, you're alive and kickin'! How do you feel?"

Danny had a hard time opening his eyes. When he did, it took him a few seconds to recall the person carrying him. "M-Mr. Stiles…?"

"Hey now Danny boy, you make me feel old. I'm only like…" he gave a sly smile and coughed, "Twenty seven." Danny grinned. "Call me Henry."

"Okay." He twisted his head, noticing a ceiling above his head and a door growing closer to them. "Wh-where…am I?"

"My cabin. Cute place, ain't it? It was a retirement gift to myself. My wife Beth thinks I'm crazy as a loon. But there's just something about being in the wild." Danny saw a stereo and chuckled. Henry continued, not noticing, "Anyway, before I lose myself in old man—I mean, twenty-seven-year old ramblings, we're going to take care of these chicken scratches."

Danny blinked stupidly, a little too tired to get the joke, "It must have been a huge chicken."

Henry did that big Santa laugh again. Danny liked that, it reminded him of his dad. _Dad…_homesickness engulfed him. Here he was in a stranger's cabin off in the middle of nowhere…man, _I want my bed. _

They walked into a good-sized bathroom, clean and warm with such bright colors of blue and yellow. Henry looked sheepish as he sat Danny down on the toilet which was covered with some fuzzy mat, "It's a toilet cover…um…my wife decorated this room. What a woman, once she makes up her mind 'bout somethin'…" He swirled a finger next to his temple. "And she says I'm crazy as a loon."

Henry straightened and Danny winced, there was blood all over the man's clothes. He hung his head, feeling something akin to shame, "I-I'm sorry…for, well…"

Henry tilted his head, "What are you talking about? I'm glad to have some company. The wild ain't always entertainin', you know." He pulled back the shower curtain, "Besides, what else are we born for 'cept helpin' people? Now, I'm not your mother, so do you think you can stand?" He turned on the water, pulling down the tab for the shower to start, and pointed his thumb to the stall.

Danny stared at the showerhead in gratitude and then his brain clicked, "Oh! Yeah, yeah." His face grew warm with embarrassment and he fumbled to his feet. By the tremors snaking up his calves, he wasn't sure how long he could stand, but he wasn't going to say anything.

Henry clapped his hands, "Okay, there's soap in there and all kinds of shampoos, thanks to Beth. Now holler if you're dying, ya hear?" He waved and walked out, shutting the door.

Danny was a little shocked. Things had kind of happened a little too fast for his mind to keep up. He looked down at his lap and moved his fingers about, watching a trickle of blood ooze up from his pinky and scale down to his palm. _Idaho…they chased me for that long? _He closed his eyes. _Why had they attacked me anyway? What did I do…offend the ghost mafia or something? _He sighed. _How am I going to get home? That's a long way to drive…does Mom and Dad even know I'm gone? How long has it been…a day? A week?_

He held down the fear that he had been unconscious for more than a night. Danny groaned and shifted over to the shower. This wasn't going to feel good. Danny thought for a moment and then scoffed, not caring. They were ruined anyway.

He slid into the bathtub, didn't have the strength to stand, so he stayed on his knees, resting his forehead in his hands and allowed the water to pound on his aching, and still clothed, back.

He was asleep when Henry knocked on the door.

"Danny? Kid, you okay?" When there was no answer, worry got the best of him and he came into the room. "Danny?" When he saw him, for the Ghost Child hadn't even closed the curtain, Henry ran over, thinking the worst. "Danny!"

The boy grumbled, "Five more minutes…"

Henry blew out a relieved breath. He rubbed the back of his neck. _Didn't even take off his clothes, poor kid. _He turned off the water and then grabbed a towel, draping it over the teenager. "Danny, wake up, come on, you need to get out of there."

"No, I don't want to go to school. I don't feel good." Danny griped. He pulled the towel tighter around his shoulders. Henry furrowed his brows, seeing a flush to his skin.

Feeling his forehead, Henry foresaw a troublesome night ahead. "Danny, you're burning up. Come on," He wasn't as young as he used to be so getting the kid out of the tub, weighted down by his wet clothes, was a difficult endeavor. "Eh, that's going to be sore in the morning." His back popped as he lifted Danny up and out. But it was done. "Phew, alright. Now let's go."

He sat Danny on the couch and held his shoulders so he wouldn't fall down to the side, "No, bucko, you can go to sleep later. Right now, I need your help." The teenager opened his eyes, glazed and blood shot. With a whimper, his head drooped forward, ending the descent against Henry's collarbone. Henry pushed him back up, his voice taking the father tone, something that hadn't happened for years, "Hey, stop. Ya need to drink this. Once you do, you can go to sleep. Do you understand?"

He felt bad doing this. Kid needed his rest. But he couldn't force medicine down his throat while he was sleeping, could he?

Danny licked his lips and nodded.

"Okay," he let go of the boy, grabbed his canteen he had forgotten on the coffee table, and then took out the fever/pain medication from the first aid kit. Danny slowly took it from his hands and swallowed the pills, water dribbling down his chin. Henry patted his shoulder, "Good job. Now you can go to sleep." Danny smiled a toothy grin and then flopped down on the cushions, limp as a noodle.

Now came the tough part. Good thing he had picked out this couch, his wife wouldn't have liked the blood and water soaking the material. Henry took out the bandages and wondered where to start.

In the end, Henry felt pretty confident about Danny's condition. Most of the gashes didn't look to have cut any important arteries or anything like that, of course Henry had been a medic in the war about thirty years ago but he still felt as positive as he could be. Also, Danny didn't have anything that was broken, an added plus!

What bugged the man, were the burns. He hadn't seen anything like it. His first thought had been cigarette butts (darn punks) but they looked too…well…perfectly round, and too narrow. His next thought had been ludicrous. _Lasers…like in James's comic book…_

James, his five-year-old grandson, loved writing his own stories. Henry's favorite was the one about the aliens taking over the world by shooting laser beams, frying the people's brains (_that's my grandson!). _But that was fiction.

Henry shook off the musings. He wasn't a doctor, how could he diagnose burns? The good news was Danny was all patched up. Tomorrow, they would head into town and call his parents, next the hospital. Whatever hospital was closest. Right now, Henry didn't have the heart to disrupt the kid's sleep again.

The man went over and sat in his favorite lounge chair, crossing his legs on the kickstand. Looking over at Danny one last time, all snuggled up; he then turned on the T.V.

He watched the news with unseeing eyes, feeling quite stupid. He had kind of lied. Of course he had phone service! He had reception for all sorts of channels!

It was just that…. he didn't have a phone. "Roughing it" he would tell his wife, when really he just wanted to be left alone and do whatever he wanted, without the nuisance of the outside world.

He had bought the television and stereo behind Beth's back, knowing he would be bored to death. He was a man of civilization…. and football.

Henry smacked his forehead. "Life lesson, Henry, my boy…always listen to the wife."

Oh, he was going to get an earful when he called Beth.

* * *

From the desolate boredom of grounding, Sam Mansom nearly jumped out of her skin when the forgotten cell phone sitting on her dresser started buzzing. She grabbed the nasty little piece of technology, flipping it open and freezing, heart ramming, craning her ears for her parents. Sometimes, she swore they had video cameras hidden in the corners of her bedroom.

When nothing happened, she got the courage to bring the contraption to her ear. "Hello?" She whispered.

It was Tucker, _"Sam, I'm sorry for earlier, 'kay? Now can we put that argument aside and try to come up with a plan to find Danny?"_

She had completely forgotten about the argument. "Uh, yeah, yeah, whatever. Now what are you suggesting? I don't know about you, but I'm kind of on house arrest!"

"_Yeah, well you're not the only one. I can't come up with anything that won't deal with us running from home, risking life long punishment from our parents, and probable butt-kicking from ghosts or something of the like. What about you?"_

"Nothing. I've been sitting around here pulling my hair out! —But I've got nothing." There were footsteps sounding up the stairs and Sam immediately lowered her voice. "Do…do you think Danny's okay?"

There was the tiniest pause, enough for her heart to squeeze with terror. _"Of course! It's Danny! We've seen some tough opponents but we always come out in the end. He's fine, I'm sure."_

"I-I know that we've battled some…tough opponents but…I don't know, I just have a bad feeling, Tucker. Call it woman intuition."

Tucker laughed, but it sounded harsh, forced and Sam couldn't help but shiver. _"**Woman** intuition huh…could have fooled me!"_

In obvious reaction, she cried out, "Shut it, nerd boy!" But she wasn't really that angry…far from it…not by the tremors going down her spine.

Tucker knew, she could tell by the sound of his voice. He didn't crack another joke. "_It'll be okay, Sam. I know you're worried. I am too. Just…man, Sam, I just wished something would come along and help us get out of here! I'm going crazy sitting around."_

"I know, Tuck, me too." Sam sighed and looked out at the clouds mocking her from outside her window. She turned away and sighed again. "Me too."

As Sam Mansom continued her conversation with Tucker Foley, a streak of white shot through the sky past her window. The comet like tail went halfway across Amity Park before slowing down and landing on the Fenton Works building.

If someone had the inkling to look up at the roof of the Fenton household, they would have been astonished to see a little girl in a blue hoodie with a red cap on her head grab the ledge and flip into one of the rooms.

Danielle landed not too graciously in Danny Fenton's bedroom; she fell into a somersault and crashed into the wall. "Ow!" Danni (with an 'i') massaged the back of her head and stood up. "Man that hurt." She turned her head, ready to greet someone…who…wasn't there. Her smile faded into a pout. "Hey, where is he?" Her little hands were placed on her hips in a disliking manner. "Teenagers. Here I am to visit my cousin and he's not here. Really, it's not like he has anywhere to go."

The twelve year old in detailed fact was actually a clone of Danny done in mistake during one of a number of Vlad Master's failed attempts to "find love" as he would say. The young girl had been away for months, gaining control of her powers so she wouldn't turn into ecto-goop, and here she was to touch in (not brag, that wasn't it) and that ungrateful teen wasn't here.

Danni was about to morph into her ghost self when Danny Fenton's older sister Jazz suddenly barged into the room. She had managed to turn invisible, out of sheer instinct, before the girl had spotted her.

The sixteen-year-old was chattering away on a portable phone. Danielle rolled her eyes and formed her hand into a mouth like shape, ridiculing Jasmine behind her back by opening her fingers and closing them again and again. _Blah, blah, blah, hmph. She's probably talking about boys. _Danni was just about to fly out of there when Jazz's conversation caught her attention.

She floated onto the bed and hovered there, eavesdropping, realizing how strenuous Jasmine's voice really was. She seemed close to tears.

"N-no, Mom. There's no ransom note." She listened and then stomped her foot in frustration. Her lips quivered. "No Dad! There are no ghosts here, got it? Give it a rest. I'm all alone, okay?"

Danielle could have set her right but decided against practical jokes at the moment. She wasn't getting a good feeling about this. Where was Danny?

Jazz sat on the edge of the bed and skimmed her hand along the comforter, tears now dripping down her cheeks. "Okay, okay, I'll call if anything happens. Right, fine, I'll turn on the ghost shield too. Don't worry I-I'll be fine. Just…call me if you find him, please. Yeah, I love you too. Bye." She dejectedly turned off the phone and the handset fell to the ground from limp fingers. She covered her face and shook with barely held back sobs.

"Oh Danny, please be okay! Please, I know you're strong, I know you can take care of yourself…please…don't let me down now…" Jazz's head flew up when there was a gasp. She rushed to her feet and ran to the door, not feeling safe any more. Someone was here. Fire burned in her eyes, "G-get away, you ghosts!" She yelled. "Haven't you done enough? Get away! And bring back my baby brother or I'll…I'll…" Jasmine ran out of the room.

Danni was shaking her head, not understanding the weeping down the hall—_Danny's missing? –_ Not understanding what she heard; she quickly flew out of the house. _I'm going to find some answers! Where are Danny's friends? They got to know._

It seemed something had come along to Tucker and Sam's aid.

* * *

"You know what to do."

"Yes. It will not be pleasant for the boy."

"That's the plan."

Henry rolled onto his side, not yet awake and yet…_who is that? _He stretched and yawned, fatigue pulling him back away from the dream-like voices. But something wouldn't let him fall back asleep, not all the way.

"Do not show any mercy. We do not want him to have any resistance, any courage to fight against us."

"Stop your blubbering. I know what I'm doing. Now leave me to my work."

Electricity tingled down Henry's neck and with a sudden jolt of fear, he sprang awake. He saw the tail end of some feet going through his roof and then there was the shadow, the cloud of black hovering over Danny, constricting him, making him twist and whimper and push against his blanket, locked in a terrifying weaving of nightmares.

"Hey…hey! _Hey_, get away from him!" Henry came to his feet and waved his arms, fighting against a bile of horror risingin his throat, knowing this is an unnatural being, something not of this world. But Danny… "I said, _get away from him!"_

The inky fog winced and pulled back from Danny, coiling in his direction, _staring_ at him. There was a face, two yellow eyes, and a grotesque mouth hanging open in surprise by the fact that a human had disturbed its work.

Henry got one more rush of courage and he held out one hand, "You are not welcomed here! LEAVE!"

In a hissing shriek, the shadow was pulled out of the room like some unseen vacuum was cleansing the house. Once it was gone, Henry collapsed to his knees, gasping for air.

_What was that? What had it been doing? This has got to be a dream. That's it, I'm dreaming, it hadn't happened, it wasn't here…_

"Henry…" Stiles robotically lifted his head to the voice. Danny wrinkled his brows in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, kid, I'm fine. I just…I had a really bad dream."

Danny shuddered and his fists tightened around the edges of his blanket, "I did too." He whispered, as if admitting such a thing was tempting some evil; the topic stinking of unmentioned voodoo. His yawn broke it, and by seeing such a normal occurrence, Henry felt better. He returned the yawn. It really must have been a dream.

Danny curled onto his side. "I don't really remember it now though."

Henry nodded, "Yep." He wanted to but God help him he couldn't say the same.

"Hey, Henry? Um…thanks, I guess. I…"

Henry retook his seat and waved off the boy's stuttering, "Don't mention it, Danny boy. Now get some rest, tomorrow we'll head into town and buy a phone."

"Huh?"

"_Find_ a phone! _Find_, yeah, that's what I said." He chuckled uncomfortably.

Danny, always clueless, shrugged and was about to settle back to sleep when he suddenly gasped. Frozen air breathed out of his mouth in a curling blue tail and his body wracked with shivers. "Oh n-no." His sapphire eyes pierced the empty space and he groped for some semblance of self-control. There were ghosts nearby, no need to be frightened, no need to freak, just make an excuse to leave the room and deal with them.

What was with this sudden gripping terror? He had fought ghosts before, plenty of times, in worst settings. He didn't know why…but he felt weak and defenseless.

_Well duh, maybe it's because you're lying on a couch all bandaged up and hardly able to walk. Think about that?_

Oh no, that wasn't it…that wasn't the reason and he knew it deep down.

His arm where the scorpion man's poison had burned him (and, unbeknownst to him, had dissolved into his bloodstream) began to itch and quiver.

"Danny?" How did Henry move so quickly to his side? "You okay? You're pale. You're medicine must have worn off." He was feeling his forehead, clicking his tongue. "No…you actually feel…_cold_. Danny? Talk to me bucko, what's wrong?"

"I need to go to the bathroom!" Danny shouted, thinking on his feet. He pushed Henry aside and wobbled to a standing position or more like a…leaning position. When Henry stood and settled him, Danny shrugged him off, "I don't need help. I'm fine. Call of nature, you know?"

"Danny…" It was the parental tone again.

"I'll be fine!" Danny forced a laugh and marched as quickly as he could to the next hall. Once he was safe behind the corner, he relaxed against the wall and winced, feeling fresh pricks of pains. Wrinkles beneath his eyes, he set his face in bold determination and shuffled into a spare bedroom. "Alright, whoever you are, show yourself!"

There was eerie silence and Danny felt a bit stupid. What if they had already left? His ghost sense went off again. Nope.

Surprisingly, one of the spirits, wherever they were, laughed…and it…wasn't spooky or conniving. Danny didn't let down his guard.

"He's a commanding one."

"He sure is. I guess we're found out."

"Shall we?"

"I suppose so."

They materialized, one after another. Danny gulped. This wasn't good. Four ghosts floated in a half arc before him, each holding a different kind of weapon: sword, machete, bow and arrows, and a spear. All of them looked primed and ready for battle like the last bunch of spiritual goons. The only difference was that all of them were smiling and they didn't look brusque or…'goonish'. Didn't mean Danny was going to relax his stance. He had been tricked before.

"Why are you here?"

The one in the center right floated to the ground and sheathed his sword. Then, to a great shock for the boy, the ghost man bent his waist in an old world and elegant bow. "We have been assigned to protect you, Ghost Child." The other three flew down to stand around the ghost and bowed the same way.

It took a few minutes for Danny to shut his mouth. "Uh… protect me? Wait, wait, you mean…you're not here to…well, kick my butt?"

They glanced at each other and then busted into jolly laughter. The one carting the spear stepped forward, wiping an eye, "No child, we're here to deal with the others who do want to," he held up two fingers and quoted, "kick your butt".

"We apologize for disturbing you. It was not part of our plans to have you discover us so soon. You were meant to heal in peace." The bow and arrow guy said.

"Heal in peace?" Danny scoffed, "Okay, so you're here to protect me…well where were you _yesterday_!"

They winced and sobered. Danny closed his mouth and was abashed in shame. He sighed, "I'm sorry. I'm just…I'm kind of confused…why are you here again?"

The one with the sword materialized behind him with a chair in hand. "Sit down, Daniel. It is too soon to move around. You'll aggravate your wounds."

Danny, quivering with a fatigue, did as he was told and was grateful for it. "I didn't mean to shout…"

"But you had every right to." The sword man pointed to his chest, "First, let us introduce ourselves. I am called Charles in our world.'

"You mean the ghost zone?"

Charles nodded. "Most spirits do not recall the names they had acquired in their previous lives. Thus it is a benefit to…"

"Make one up," the machete man grinned. "They call me Ian."

"And you may call me Hawkins." The bow and arrow guy brandished his weapon. "Fits, huh?"

Danny nodded; he could picture a person like that with a bird on his shoulder. Before he could muse on a Robin Hood look a like, the spear ghost grabbed his hand and shook it enthusiastically. "And I'm Jason. It's so good to finally meet you!"

Charles ripped Jason off and sent Danny an apologetic look, "He's…well, we're all a bit excited to meet you Daniel."

Danny rubbed his sore palm and titled his head in suspicion, "How do you know my name? Why are you protecting me anyway?"

Ian, a handsome chap with short buzzed brunette hair, took the conversation by the reigns. "I will make the apology here and forthright. For the past couple of weeks…you have been…watched."

Danny's insides went cold. "Watched? By you guys…for _weeks_!" His head spun.

"Oh no, it's much worse," Hawkins said. "Not just by us."

Danny was glad he was sitting down. It wasn't every day you found out you had more than one stalker. The wheels in his head started turning, "The ghosts from before."

"Yep." Jason looked pleased. "You're not as clueless as—" A shoulder in the side ended his words.

Charles glared at the zealous red head, "Yes. They have been keeping a close eye on you as well."

Danny balled his fists, "But why? Why didn't I detect you guys sooner?"

"We kept our distance. We weren't to interfere, only to observe. However, such a plan did not…go well." Charles cleared his throat.

"It was a surprise to us all when the enemy attacked you. We were not ready and by the time we stepped in, you were already…" Ian struggled for words and Danny easily supplied them.

"Butt kicked."

Ian sighed, "Yes. It was out of nowhere and with a brutality we had not expected."

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose where a thumping was beginning to grow. "Wait…why? Why am I being watched?"

"You are not being watched any longer, Daniel. As you can see, our plans have changed by the enemy's actions. They have taken a course of eradicating you and we have taken the liberty of preventing that." Charles crossed his legs and hovered in mid air. The others relaxed as well.

Danny didn't feel all that relaxed. "Eradicating me?"

"You know, destroy, maim, kill, not living any…" Jason had a hand placed not too gently over his yapping jaws.

Hawkins shook his head.

"Yeah, yeah, I understand." Danny combed a hand through his hair. "Well, I guess this _is_ old news."

"What?"

"Please explain."

Danny laughed, "Where have you been?" He blinked, "Oh wait, that's right. Things have been weird. There hadn't been a lot of ghost attacks…that is, not until yesterday. It had been really quiet." He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, eyes glazing over as he thought.

"Um, hello?" Jason asked. Everyone shushed him.

The boy came back and spoke, "Those ghosts from before haven't been the only ones trying to…eradicate me."

"What?"

"You're serious?"

"You guys really are new around here…uh, I mean Amity Park." They all nodded.

Charles leaned forward, "Please explain this to me again, you have been…"

"Attacked before? Sure, by Skulker, Technis, Ember, Plasmius, the Lunch Lady, the Box Ghost's attacked me before but he's not really the best at villainy. Oh, and there were those ghostpuses, and how could I forget Freakshow, he nearly got me once. The fruit loop, he tried to be 'Ringleader of the Universe' or something" Danny tapped his chin, "Let's see…who else?"

Charles held up a hand, clearly shaken, "No more. I think we understand."

"I cannot believe this!" Ian suddenly cried.

"It's all your fault you know!" Hawkins pointed at Jason.

"My fault? How is it my fault?"

"We could have gotten here faster but you just had to go to that party with that dragon lady!"

Jason jumped to his feet, "That wasn't my fault! I couldn't break it off. It was always, '_I want to go to the ball!'_ How could I say no?"

"Easy! Like this…"

Charles and Ian ignored the arguing duo.

"It seems we were too late. If only we had heard of the Ghost Child sooner…"

"Ah, but you know how far rumors have to travel in the spirit realm. Once we learned of him it took us months just to find the right door. It really isn't all our faults. He's alive isn't he? And he has quite a reputation."

"Yes, but I still feel that we don't quit have this protector thing down. It's embarrassing."

"Especially with those two." Ian pointed to Hawkins and Jason. "I understand your feelings."

Danny clapped his hands, gaining all of their attentions, "I'm sorry." Danny mocked. "But could you please…_keep it down!_ I'm not alone in this house you know!"

The four comically shut their mouths and whispered their apologies.

The Ghost Child sighed, "You still haven't told me why you're protecting me. I know it's from…'the enemy', whoever. But why does 'the enemy' want to kill me anyway? Why do you guys…not…want to?" He was too tired to even speak coherently now.

Charles noticed. "Perhaps that should wait until another time. You must rest in good knowledge that we shall prevent anymore attacks against you."

"Yeah," Jason beamed. "We did great earlier. And I was surprised how brave that Stiles man was too. He was all 'leave!' and then Ian, you got that one soldier by the hair and pulled him out and Hawkins, you and I, we sure taught that his friend a lesson didn't we?" Jason laughed, "Oh yeah, good times, good times."

The other three, all who had been trying to quiet the red head, groaned. Danny crossed his arms and raised a brow.

Ian rubbed his eyes. "It was an enemy powerful in the manipulation of dreams. He was sent to torture you into insanity."

Danny paled. _The nightmare… _"Oh."

"Do not fear, Daniel. We shall send for some more reinforcements if that shall make you feel better."

Danny dazedly shook his head, "No. I'll be fine. I have been fine before you guys, you know. I'll just go ghost and take care of them myself."

Pointed glances all around; Jason shifted uncomfortably.

"Okay, I'm hurt but I'll heal in good time." Danny frowned when they didn't end the silence, "What aren't you telling me?"

Ian hung his head, "Danny, uh…"

"You shall know in good time. For now, go, heal, and do not concern yourself. One of our own has gone to retrieve your parents. You will be home in no time." Charles stood up and signaled for the others to do so as well. The blonde-bearded spirit bowed farewell. "If you wish to speak to any of us, please do not hesitant to ask."

"Wait!" Danny came to his feet but by the weakness in his knees, fell back down on his rump. The four waited however, in good respect. The teenager knew their question-and-answer time was up though. No use pushing it. "Can you make sure nothing happens to my friends or family? Henry too?"

Ian, Charles, Hawkins, and Jason smiled.

And disappeared.

"As you command."

There was a knock at the door. "Danny? You in there?"

The boy wearily answered, "Yeah, sorry. I-I heard a noise."

Stiles opened the door, "Okay, well, you hungry bucko?"

Danny shook his head. There was too much confusion in his head for room to think about food. But his stomach on the other hand…

Henry laughed by the grumbling sound, "I'll take that as a yes."

Danny smiled as the man departed, probably to the kitchen. The smile fell. He sat there alone to brood. Knowing though, that he wasn't really alone.

* * *

Rumors take a long time to travel through the never-ending doorways and dimensions of the ghost zone. But this news was too juicy for normal speed limits to hinder its course.

"The Halfa is missing!"

"Did you hear? The Ghost Boy is missing!"

"He's gone!"

Vlad Masters, hovering in the green space of the spirit realm, musing on his next evil plot, grabbed the neck of a passerby ghost. He had been flying past at top speed to deliver the info. Now, Plasmius was going to insist that the measly little poltergeist would relinquish what he knew.

"What is it, my dear friend, that you are _shouting_ at the _top_ of your lungs throughout the _entire_ ghost zone?" Vlad smiled sweetly as the ghost shivered.

"U-um…th-the Ghost Boy…the one who's h-half human and half-f g-ghost…"

"I _know_ who the Ghost Boy is. What, pray tell, is the news about him?"

"He's gone missing!"

Masters was so taken back; he released the ghost, who took the initiative to get the heck out of there. Plasmius furrowed his brows and stroked his chin, not caring about the escapee.

"Missing? Now Danny, my boy…what have you done now?"

That was enough time for musings; Vlad Masters had an important place to get to.

A meeting with Jack and Madeline Fenton.

* * *

**A.N.:** I apologize for how quick this chapter felt. Hope you were entertained however. Did anyone catch my "subtle" hints about the dragon lady ghost, and Cosmo from "Fairly Odd Parents"? Yeah, I stink at mysteries. You'll figure things out soon, if you haven't already.

Wow, ever since I found fanfiction on it, I am newly entertained by the show. I actually took notes during a D.P. marathon. Is that sad?


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